N  a  p a  l  m     H  e  a  l  t  h     S  p  a  :     R  e  p  o  r  t     2  0  0  9









a silence whitens between us


for the first time



my dress is the colors of the earth



you are sarcastic and pale



the trace


of your chaste caress





as my father winds up the road below.



though you think I am a child,


I scorn your honor


in secret


with a woman’s heart








I saw you wince

as my skirt fell closed,

the skirt that is like scarves

and swirls with a slight heaviness

as if it had lain out all night

and gathered dew


that look, crossing your face

swift shadow of a bird

as my skirt so quickly wrapped around,

the hem swinging a little the other way

revealing its subtle weight


that look gives me courage

as I tie the waist



as far as you know







it started to rain


having nowhere to go,

we sat in the car

in the empty parking lot


            rain drops strewn across the windshield


as you pulled the words

soft as kittens

out of the dark


            all the while


            idly balancing

            the open switchblade

            across your right hand,


            starlight gathering liquid there.



some people have roots here


you said


            rain drops streaming

            down the glass


            in each a sun

            and worlds






I thought I was done with your black bag

the one you could never find anything in


now in its far recesses I find

a gold watch

I have never seen,

the black leather strap aged soft

roman numerals on a black face

hands stopped at V:XXVIII


dirt and patina


the tongue is gone


I cannot read the tiny brand name


my eyes keep returning to the hands

as if they indicate some thing

I might understand,

the second hand frozen

almost at the hour


now it lies across the pile of letters

on the table

strange in the afternoon



it gathers the room in


so I put it away


with the other things

to be gone through

later on